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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635433">And My Eyes Weren't Dead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubletonesglee/pseuds/troubletonesglee'>troubletonesglee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:55:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubletonesglee/pseuds/troubletonesglee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Roy’s Tune by Fontaines D.C.</p><p>Sebastian and Blaine meet when Blaine is asked to buy cigarettes for Sebastian and his friends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blaine Anderson &amp; Sebastian Smythe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And My Eyes Weren't Dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As mentioned, this is inspired by Roy’s Tune by Fontaine’s D.C. </p><p>The title is also from there.</p><p>This is kind of sad, so be warned.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Running a hand through his freshly dyed red hair, Sebastian looked at himself in the mirror. He rolled his head, neck stiff from falling asleep on the bathroom floor. He rubbed an eye, sniffing, disgruntled. </p><p>He splashed his face with cold water, before turning and stepping into his bedroom, dropping onto his bed and pulling the covers over himself. He pulled out a book, settling down and opening it to the marked page, only managing a few sentences before memories of last night came flooding back to him. </p><p>A crisp, cold breeze had ruffled their hair, frost dusting lashes and cheekbones. Some passers by had told them to be careful, hands slipping out from under bundled jackets to feel the air (Sebastian still wasn’t sure why that was a thing that people did), going on about how stone cold it was. They didn’t care. </p><p>Him and his friends were stood on a street corner, drinking cheap spirits and dancing to tinny music outside of the club they weren’t old enough to go into. </p><p>Hunter, the next best thing on the curbstone scene (Sebastian being the best, obviously) had taken interest in a smaller boy, who was stood round the hidden side of the corner, only visible by his head, which was peeking round nervously. Hunter had rigged Sebastian’s sleeve (which had been initially met by a sharp swat round the head) whispering to him about the boy. Sebastian had glanced at him, taken in his undeniably attractive features, before turning back to the music. </p><p>Not satisfied with this, Hunter and some guy whose name Sebastian didn’t care to know, had disappeared round to this boy, convincing him to go buy them cigarettes. Not a big fan of them, Sebastian didn’t pay it too much attention when he granted their request (how he’d done it, Sebastian didn’t know - he looked about their age), instead continuing to dance with Jeff, whose blonde hair had gone green after going swimming earlier that day. </p><p> </p><p>They didn’t see the boy again for a few weeks, not that Sebastian minded, or really even noticed. But he’d come back eventually, and was sent off to buy drinks. This went on a few weeks, the boy being allowed to keep the change at first, until Hunter had decided he wasn’t deserving of it. It got to a point where he had to find the money himself, too. Sebastian hadn’t worked out why he agreed to it, until he overheard some fairly weak threats from Hunter. </p><p>“Lay off him, he doesn’t have to anything for us.” Sebastian had told him, fishing the money out of his own pocket and pressing it into the boys hand absentmindedly. Sebastian’s relationship with his dad wasn’t great, but he’d be given money and sent on his way in order to keep the house quiet. His mother wasn’t around anymore. </p><p>Quite frankly, he hated the way they used him. </p><p> </p><p>A few nights later, he learnt the boys name. </p><p>He’d whispered “Blaine,” into his ear, pressing against him on his toes, breath smelling like Ribena and Sprite, which had amused Sebastian thoroughly. </p><p>“Blaise?” Sebastian had asked, not so much because he’d misheard him but more because he liked the feel of his breath against his neck, the warmth of his body against his on this cold, cold night. </p><p>"Blaine.” Blaine had replied, louder this time. Sebastian noticed the curls that lay flat around the boy’s ears, the rest neatly tucked away and onto his head. </p><p>"Blaine, got it,” He repeated, liking the way the name sounded, “actually, whilst I’ve got your attention; you don’t need to do what they tell you, Hunter never follows through with his threats."</p><p> </p><p>It turned out that he did. Last night, they were loitering on the streets, sour lights spilling out of bar windows viciously. Despite the blistering cold, Sebastian was sweating, his joints tired and the highly annoying sensation of getting ill sitting in his stomach. He was running his hand through his hair again (this had to be 100 times, now) when Blaine turned to him, pulling him into a kiss that tasted like blackberries and mint. Of course he tasted like mint. Why wouldn’t he? Sebastian had gasped, before focusing on the soft lips that were working on his, a tongue brushing over his own lips briefly before being removed. </p><p>“I’m taking some of your illness.”</p><p>Sebastian had laughed at that, since it was such a Blaine thing (since when did he just know “Blaine things”?). “How did you know that I’m ill?”</p><p>“You’re... glowing, and I’m assuming you’re not having a baby.”</p><p>He laughed again at the logic. “I mean, I’d hope not.”</p><p>Blaine smiled, properly, something Sebastian hadn’t seen before. He liked it. </p><p>“You were meant to be buying us cigarettes.”<br/>
Sebastian turned, coming face to face with Hunter. </p><p>“We’re not near anywhere that sells them.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“So he’s not getting them.”</p><p>Hunter’s face became stormy, Blaine being pulled to the ground by two guys Sebastian a only vaguely recognised. He frowned, opening his mouth to speak, before the three of them began to kick Blaine, feet connecting to his ribs and waist and hips. Sebastian paused, not entirely sure what he was seeing, before it hit him. </p><p>He called for Jeff, dropping to his knees to try and sit Blaine up, fighting off the flying feet. Jeff, along with Nick and Beat, managed to drag Hunter and his pals away, Sebastians fingers tracing over Blaine’s body, feeling for bruises and any worse potential injuries inflicted upon Blaine. </p><p>Sebastian’s eyes very vaguely processed red and blue lights, before Blaine was being gently lifted. He looked up at him, vision clouded, and was told to "go catch up on your sleep, son. You can come see, Blaine, is it? You can come see Blaine tomorrow, he’ll be fine.”</p><p>Too shocked to protest, he had simply stayed on his knees, allowing Jeff to lift him from under his arms and guide him to the bus shelter. </p><p>Once he’d arrived home, he never made it to the bedroom, instead leaning over the toilet, scared he was going to be sick. He’d had a text from Nick, who had apparently given his number as the contact, telling him that Blaine couldn’t be seen until the day after tomorrow. </p><p> </p><p>That was tomorrow, Sebastian realised, emerging from his thoughts after a tear had dropped onto his page. He wiped his tears away, taking a deep breath through his nose. </p><p>He whispered through stubborn tears that had insisted on falling, “Hey love, are you hanging on?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you liked this!</p><p>If you want to see more from me, I’m @/troubletonesglee on tumblr :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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